


The Day I Dared to Dream.

by ARandomRock



Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Alcoholism, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Despite the tags I swear there's no angst andit's generally light., Gen, Great House Dagoth, Implied Relationships, Lighthearted, Pre-Canon, Spoilers, Vignettes, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24296929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARandomRock/pseuds/ARandomRock
Summary: Short snippets of the (short) life and eventual death of an Ash Ghoul Priest, (and it's friendly Ash Slave).Trouble is never far in the rather one sided war of the Sixth House: be it dealing with injured slaves; bickering Heartwights or even sewing chaos into the Imperial barracks,Yet, in a House where the Sibling's minds are all connected, a bond formedmight just touch your very soul...





	1. The Day I Killed Nerevar (Again)

**Author's Note:**

> After getting some detailed writing feedback, I decided to work on this series. The goals were simple:  
> 1) Narrative detached from the person. (No "more Oh what could this mean!" inserts). 2) Shorter more concise paragraphs. 3) Better dialogue balancing
> 
> >You don't need to have played Great House Dagoth, as I pull most of it from canon/going up and casting calm on everyone. There are some light references to it and The Tribe Unmourned. Dagoth Irvyn was chosen because my man let's me create spells and test spells in his tower without aggroing on my GHD character. <
> 
> I don't have a dedicated Morrowind account but I have a chunk of Ash Ghoul nonsense on my AS and twitter. Both at @ Plutoniarts.  
> Or you can hit me up on discord, Plutonia Of The Sixth House#9349 and I'll spam you with all my House Dagoth fashion.

Sitting on the metal frame of what was probably a table, a deformed creature stretched out it's arms. With it's face's proboscis stretched out and it cracked it's grey flesh around the neck in exhaustion. Opposite in the small tower observatory, the multiple tentacles of the larger figured droned on, gesticulating with a book entangled between it's long fingers.   
_"We share no secrets, here. I can feel your attention fade. To think...you were a incarnation candidate."_  
The harsh whispers and split voice of the Ash Ghoul's teacher was enough straighten up their posture. Nuzzling it's ears-melded-with-skin with it's robe, the creature fired back a small joke.  
_"Master Dagoth Irvyn, Nerevar was a warrior commander! Must we really need to understand this level of magicka weaving when one can just summon your patron to light your candle stick?"_  
Tossing the book across the table in exasperation, the Ascended Dreamer poked one of it's many holes through the Dwemer contraption outside. While the Ash Ghoul clambered over it's legs over the metal frame and attempted to catch a look itself out of the window, but to only spot a cliff racer dart. Albeit it wondered since they had torn out their mortal eyes, how exactly it's Master saw in comparison to the Ghoul.   
_"Amusing, you take the word of the false poet, over the Lord who served as a brother?"_  
The Ascended Dreamer spoke underneath it's own tentacles in real Dunmeri vibrations instead of through the whispers. Even at the later transformations of the corpus, a joke could perhaps be still be said slyly away from the Heartwights who stayed only a couple levels lower. Dagoth Gilvoth was not the one to mince works as the pair above did.  
_"Hmmm, we have a rare guest indeed. It appears a brother by Ghostfence spies it to be a Bosmer. Perhaps this is a time you can put that Inodrii strength to use, both it's body and soul will be of use to us."_  
Flicking up it's shroud over it's pointed horn-ears, extra life sprang into the Ash Ghoul. Pocketing a ashen soul gem off the table in it's layered robes. Hooked canes twirled between it's vague fingers.   
_"Us? So be it, Brother Dagoth Irvyn, it will be the slaves that drag the body by next sunrise."_  
Shaking all three or so tentacles from it's face the Ascended Dreamer returned it's table and books. Clunking the rusted lever to the door downwards it spoke with it's whispers as the glitters of a spell trailed down with the Ghoul, whose claws make a horrid screech noise from sliding down.  
_"Listen to the voices of your siblings, cast away your indicative nature for Lord Dagoth Ur's blessing allow us many eyes and ears together but think on our own."_  
The Ash Ghoul outside had an instinctive urge to throw it's "hands" up to block the incoming dust from it's ye, but resisting the urge it breathed a couple beats. They could see through the darkness of the night now, they could see and sense the grounds they walked on. It was still an unnerving feeling but an exhilarating one when you have the eyes of hundreds. The squawks of the cliff racers helped immensely with the tracking of this so called intruder. Looking down for the Ash Slave from Odrosal, it's scampering legs was busy waving away another cliff race that was trying to heading down towards the bridge.  
The plan then was simple. To take up advantage by the abandoned Daedric Shrine to Azura that was inhabited only by rats, overlooking the same bridge. A Mark thrown down at the end of the bridge, buried under piles of rats with burnt feet and chipped ears. Making sure the mange and blighted skin face right up in eyesight. The Ash Ghoul's proboscis curled curtly in as it listened in the wind, incarnation read through it's fingers and looked beyond the land. Grinning with the tip of it's proboscis,  
_"Barbarianism beyond Orsinium! How can such a creature claim to be and unify when it throws life away such as this. As Nerevar, I must...fulfil the prophecies, I must stop this..!"_  
The Bosmer laxed it's bow grip, helping shift the corpses out the way and lining them apart. Whispering sweet songs of his homeland as it attempted to cover up the corpses with piles of ash and lichen. Holding out hand to the wind the Ash Ghoul send down it's own whispered song from the rocky outcrop of the Daedric Shrine.  
_"If you are indeed Nerevar reborn then I bestow upon you the custom of House Dagoth, that you may strike your first blow."_  
Pulling back the bow and spinning around the Bosmer aimed up at the Ash Ghoul and shot a warning shot before knocking another arrow in a flash. The Ash Ghoul finished it's recall and sprung in front of the Bosmer, cracked it's scythed crane over it's head. Stumbling back towards the bridge, the Bosmer exchanged the weapon for a dagger, discarding it's bow on the ground, Attempting to take a swipe at the Ash Ghoul but the curved part of the cane struck his ribs and connected into the wooden post of the bridge. Caught with almost a foot of distance, the Ash Ghoul completed the catcher and slammed the off hand cane down into it's arms clamping them. Pinned to the tree trunk post of the bridge, the priest nudged the dagger through the cracks of the planks. Out of the robe, keeping one hand pinching the catch, it's soul gem glistered with a small whisper of a soup trap incarnation.   
_"House Dagoth is honourable, we will send your ashes to the Ashlander burial caverns. As though Councillor Dagoth served Nerervar,, your soul however will repay the loyalty "_  
It was almost that the Ash Ghoul was speaking through layers of voices, slightly muddled as the hand stretched out to the shouting and biting Bosmer. Whispers and songs of the Sixth House echoed as flecks of red destruction mixed and tainted strands of white restoration curled down the Ash Ghoul's arms and fingers. Dagoth's Bloom touched merely for a second of the Bosmer's face before the face of the Ash Ghoul began to phase. Eyes now curled with a golden look it's voice was broken into two. The voice in his dreams was now alive in front him. Red acidic magic curled in it's eyesight and ripped the light from his eyes.  
_"Better luck on your next Incarnation."_


	2. The Day I Gambled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dagoth Vemyn and Dagoth Endus were often at ends with each other, which meant it was usually taken out on anything lower than them.   
> Perhaps it was the roughness that come with being dragged through double, or even triple the life spans than the Ash Ghoul. Perhaps it simply came with overseeing the key parts of the war! For the Ash Ghoul and it's Master,   
> Yet if there was thing Dagoth Odros had instilled in his pupils was that if there was ever a chance to get a expand your enterprise, you should probably take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please skip this chapter.

It was common knowledge that between Endusal and Vemynal, there lay a divide in cultures. Be it born on jealously between those who study and those who produce or simply the ages between both of them. This had meant that for the Ash Ghoul and his master, interacting between the two was usually wrought with headaches. With how interconnected the minds and dreams were of the Sixth House, it was not so hard to pry the mind of an Ash Slave and taste what has irked either Heartwright that particular week and often made for theorising between the lower down pair.  
 _"Master Dagoth Endus boasted that his Brandy outages Master Dagoth Vemyn. Sometimes I must wonder if all this bitterness is over that."_  
Dagoth Irvyn's many tentacles rattled in thought before he gave a gentle smack on the back of the head of the Ash Ghoul. With it's arms carrying the bag, it had little chance retaliate. Yet it appeared the master did chew upon on the comment a little more.  
 _"On the uppermost layer, I assume so. Master Dagoth Endus has a connection further into the daedric planes than most of the Telvanni council. Such conjuration tricks are not of Master Dagoth Vemyn's taste. As such his palette then goes without the drops of brandy."_  
A hoarse whispered cracked covered up by the squeaks of Cliff Racer above as thy approached Endusal, waiting for the click. As the door rolled open, the pair broke apart down different sides to their respective drop offs The Ash Ghoul wandered down, passing two Slaves moving the corpse of a wizard out of the way. Brother Dagoth Mendras welcomed it's same-rank sibling with open arms and tossed the wakizashi back on it's desk.   
_"You have missed an intruder my sister! A Nordic dog floored within seconds from mere brandy! They were supposed to drink all of Tamriel under the table! Hah!"_  
Taking a peak behind at the corpse being moved, the Ash Ghoul's proboscis stretched out with a small poof of air. With it's free hand holding it's cane, the pair clacked hooks together and send wishing hums to each other as the Ash ghoul departed further on it's journey  
The Heartwright's room however was always a different place. It felt far more lived in that most of the Dwemer ruins and once more he was at a desk. Seeing such mortal looking eyes had always bothered the Ash Ghoul again, even when you see everything without eyes there is something about piercing orbs. Sorting out the bag and unloaded what was delivered, relaying Vemyn's report.  
 _"Brother, I can feel through you. You have more on your mind."_  
The Ash Ghoul cracked it's neck to the side and the top spikes of it's fused ears gave a slight wiggle as it  
 _"Are you as much of a gambler as Master Dagoth Odross?"_  
Placing his scroll down, he had leaned back in his chair and long hand stroke bemused down his beard. A mere Ash Ghoul priest to post such a question mean either they have felt something beyond their ascension or another ploy by one of the others.  
 _"Perhaps I can be. As either of my Brothers sent you to poach my treasure from me?"_  
The Ash Ghoul Priest shook it's proboscis and held out it's crooked cane at him, in it's other hand it began to prep an incarnation as fast as it could.  
 _"I want to challenge you! For your amulet and your rank!"_  
Not even moving from his seat, the Heartwright leaned back gesturing with it's head and hand in parallel laughed. He sat with his legs spread and simply sitting there. The pair stood between each other. The mere incarnations between their minds had pulled in a Bone Guard attracted to the scent.  
 _"Whenever you're ready, then?"_  
The Ash Ghoul Priest waited, kept the beats going. Emptying out it's song and thoughts of only a mere frostbite spell on it's hand. It could feel the penetrating connecting minds of the Sixth House try see any great plans but their head was empty. Only a repeated nursery rhyme and spell incarnation. Knowing that they had to make the first move however, the Ash Ghoul bent it's armed arm back and threw it's cane at the Heartwright. Simply bouncing off and scraped along the floor with a loud screech., silence fell once more.  
 _"I have cast the first stone."_  
 _"Indeed, but I was not born yesterday, as all but the second eldest you would have better luck talking me to death.Or are you perhaps wishing for your own?"_  
 _"It is your move, host."_  
Curling daedric runes through it's fingers and throwing behind him, the top half of a flame atronach began to peel out trickling sparks over the shoulder of the Heartwright. With it's arms directly aimed at the Ash Ghoul, ir's nozzle flailed up and switched incarnation. Holding both it's hands out waited until the atronach had cast it's flame, bracing with all it's might that it's clawed feet scrapped along the floor a couple inches down. The Stars had held the challenger in place just enough though and as he unbounded icy winds kept pummelling out of it's clawed fingers. The red engraved symbol ofHouse Dagoth on it's palms lit up with the magicka being absorbed from the atronach. The fire began to break apart as they sustained the icy winds enough that only sparks that were absorbed into magicka was pulled in. The wind rattled the books and strikes at the Heartwright just enough that he pulled away the atronarch and quickly watched the Ash Ghoul fall flat on it's knees in front. Splatters of ash and blood came out it's proboscis. The Heartwright took raised eye piercing and called down for Dagoth Irvyn who appeared around the corner with it's Endusal counterpart. Looking over at the full sized Ash Statue and shrine in the middle, he appeared distracted enough that it tookthe broken speech of the Ash GHoul for him to turn his attention back. Both Ascended Sleepers backed slightly at the chill that coated the room and threw ice up the walls.  
 _"As expected from one of Brother Dagoth Gilvoth's guidance. Brother Dagoth Goral, escort both of them safely to the inner facility safely, it would be a waste for our brother to become Cliff Racer pickings."_  
The Ash Ghoul vaguely stood up but was battered heavily enough that it took Dagoth Irvyn poking it with it's own cane to vague stay up. The Heartwright stood up and pulled from the further planes a long necked bottle. and placed it in the robe of the Ash Ghoul before wandering away to the back of the room to restore the fallen books. Stating that any such challenge again will be met with extinction and that Oldross will be hearing of this trick.   
The scalding and amount of scrolls battered around the back of the head of the Ash Ghoul was endless. That was...until the Ash Ghoul was sitting in the Inner Tower and Irvyn's voice changed.  
 _"Brother, for pillaging my Spellcraft secrets, I must confiscate one goblet of Brandy from you."_


	3. The Day I Saved A Zombie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash Zombies were a common casualty. Clipped on rocks, struck by machinery, bitten by cliff racers or just falling into magma. Those on pilgrimage during their final stage of Corprus were often the ones interfering with the dreams and speakings. Screaming about what has happened to them in broken fragmented whispers, for the Ash Ghoul Priest, these whispers were of interest. With clearer memories and minds of who they were, their shards were ways of remembering why the Sixth House fought as they did and why they were supposed to be a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This was the first chapter actually written.  
> Double funfact: If you play GHD, do not take the Daedric Shrine as your Nereveral, you WILL fall into the lava at least 4 times.

While up in the Inner tower of Dagoth Irvyn, is was generally noted that those who managed to keep some semblance out verbal communication that any off-comments should be limited to that. A luxury that was gained as comfortably with one's new body and form increased. Seeing without mortal eyes however was often prioritised over this skill, so for the lower ranks of slaves whose dialogue was broken even in it's whisper form. Since the Ash Ghoul Priest who had undertaken a fledgling this had been a troubling issue to handle when trying to create complex instructions.   
Clearing out some of the not-yet inhabited Dwemer Ruins or Daedric Shrines often ended up in the odd Ash Slave getting clipped by a lose pipe or tripping over rubble to have their face caved in just a little more than it naturally had. Usually just nudging them with the Priest's cane would be enough, but treating the canes as mere man catchers never sat right with the Ash Ghoul. Lord Dagoth Ur's kindness was hard to grasp when they themselves were a writhing crackling shell, but there was a warmth there, a want for something more connective. Poking with and shifting with the end of the cane was not a way of empathising the connection that those of the Sixth House have. The Ash Ghoul Priest had wondered allowed many a time how to reconcile the dissonance of a god's perspective and their own. They had all seen the Tribunal's mistakes in widening this gap and to emulate them was a disgusting thought.  
 _"mmmmm----aSTER...Arre YOU OKay?"_  
Peaking it's proboscis over it's shoulder the Ash Ghoul clocked it's head at the ash slave it was herding. Still several meters back and struggling up the slope, the Priests's heart sank into it's stomach. Itching the back of it's neck with the furred hood of the off-white priest robe, it wandered down the vaguely formed steps outside the Daedric Shrine. Pulling out to the mind of it's follower, it's claw wrapped the waist if the slave dragging up a bag of materials.  
 _"Brother, do not worry about me. Come, let us rest inside before the storm rises."_  
Inside the Daedric Shrine, the Ash Priest clamoured over the flattened stalagmite and lent it's claw to the Slave who was struggling along over just the rocks of the entrance way. The lava currents did not provide enough light to those not attuned to Night-Eye or seeing without eyes. Not to mention that the movements were erratic from the zombie as It's voice however kept cracking one word.  
 _"Br---oTHER??"_  
Helping the Slave over, the Ash Priest gained some distance sweeping away the rubble that was being repaired and stacking the tools of the trade up in the corner. Checking through the bag of materials, for the rest of the workers down the end of the tunnel, leaving one part it's mind open to keep track of it's partner. T  
 _"WhaT HaPPenED to MysELF?? BroTHer?! I WaS...Mah..."_  
Turning curiously as the Ash Slave carried another box lazily over the rubble and slumped forward, the Ash Priest talked through the whispers to the Slave. Trying to emulate the delicate speech of the Lord himself, to try sound worthy of their rank.  
 _""Were you a Sister? Such binaries are archaic here that I am not fully used to myself. Forgive me, my Sister of the Sixth House."_  
The Ash Slave chirped up and managed to gain enough energy to almost completely get from the entrance down in one go. It's clubbed foot however, twisted causing it to bundle over the fallen rubble that was being shaped into a bridge. In a panic, the Priest threw out it's cane to hook and catch the Slave but a horrid screech burned it's ears instead. Pulling the Slave up and leaning it over it's lap, it's foot was charred and bleeding. Parts of the lava underflow still dripped off the stub, Stemming the bleeding with it's own robe, the Ash Priest stroke it's head for a moment watching in case anything ignites. Lifting the body up, carried it to a flatter piece of rubble.   
_"My sister, you will survive. We of the Sixth House are unmatched."_  
Sitting with the slave in the open room before the main shrine room, the Ash Ghoul Priest sung and tended to the wound. Easing the pain over a quarter of an hour to calm the Slave down, the Priest spent time nursing as best it could with the minimal tools at it's hand. Asking questions to try distract the Ash Slave in any angle to create a distraction.  
 _"Can you hear me if I speak in Mortal tongue?"_  
The Slave responded with a gesture and stroked with it's grotesque hand down the priest's proboscis. With a stroke over it's forehead and ears now partially wrapped, the Ash Ghoul spoke as Irvyn had taught.  
 _"You have been through such pain in your enlightenment as we all do, whether we asked for the boon or not. This flesh wound is aught comparatively, I speak to you as mortal and Dunmer as possible. Here, let me make you something elegant, my Sister to ease the pain both in your soul and body."_  
Even though the slave reached it's arm out as the ash ghoul departed, it sung back a small beat of the Sixth House, knowing full well that the Slave could not yet properly see through the Dreamer's eyes. The ghoul was to gather some plants, be it Bittergreen or even a Scatheclaw that could be cracked open. Fire Ferns in the end that nestled some shalk eggs ended up being picked and chosen. Whispering back the Ash Ghoul Priest sung on it's return.  
 _"The Shalks, as weak as they may seem under Imperial boots, are strong enough to survive the harshest of flows. Be strong and sturdy like them, my Sister. House Redoran may take the shell of a Shalk but harbour no shelter for the meek underneath them."_  
Shuffling the fire ferns on it's head as the Slave rested, the Ash Ghoul Priest bent the side leaves around looking like the three prongs of the Sixth House's emblem. Seeing as though every time to the Slave moved they'd wobble or become misplaced, the Ash Ghoul searched down the sides of the Daedric Shrine for a solution. Crawling up one of the broken pillars was Red Lichen whose strength and slime managed to brace every storm or Cliff Racer pickings. Pulling it around the head of the Ash Ghoul. just above where it's eyes and original had caved in.   
_"You have a crown more colourful and lively than all the Heartwights together!"_  
The wounded Ash Slave attempted to turn it's head towards the Priest but with a claw around it's face was pulled front and back on the makeshift pillow.underneath it's head. Watching the red glow start to dim.  
 _"Do not see with mortal eyes. See through through mine, Sister. See your beauty which we all see through our Lord's eyes."_  
The slave with it's foot still propped up looked hazily, but the red glow of the transformation within it's face cavity dimmed another couple of shades. Alarmed slightly, the Ash Ghoul Priest placed it's Sixth House amulet around the neck of the ash slave and holding it's forming claw, promised it would be back. As it's back was turned, a true whisper of the dream struck the Priest enough to make it stumble from it's own thoughts.  
 _"It is as pretty as the Isles in bloom"_  
Deeper in the shrine, where the faded statue to Azura still stood, the starts of a Ash Shrine was at her feet and there with it the Pillars. Frantically searching around the empty shelves of the shrine a small knocked over Ash Statue laid at the bottom of Azura's foot. A puff out of it's proboscis in relief as the statue was set up straight in the middle of the shrine that was missing it's centre piece. Humming has much as it's broken malformed could, it cried out into the dream.  
 _"Siblings..."_  
A song filled the shrine, echos of bells tingled even before they had sent out a dream. A warmth surrounded the Ash Priest that trickled nto it's claws. Each speckle of it gave incarnations and light to their claws. The Echoes were strong in this shrine, even when the Lord's voice himself could not be heard.  
Returning to the injured Ash Slave whose light was almost fulled faded, the Restoration trickled hands where placed over the Ash Slave. Follow the notes of the bells, the Ash Ghoul repeated and the incarnation to heal parts of the broken and burnt leg.   
Standing on the edge of the entrance of the Daedric Shrine with both canes in hand, the head of the Ash Ghoul priest looked up and felt the dream surround them. The Ash Ghoul sung back into Red Mountain.  
 _"The Tribunal in their greed and thirst for adoration. House Redoran, in their removal of our shared eye, have forfeited their compassion for the weak. Pain will pass and unity will come. My sister, our future together with brighter than Azura's star."_


	4. The Day I Met an Imperial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a rare treat to pass underneath the Ghostfence and feel grass between the feet again when one was assigned to the Dagoth Ur Citadel.  
> As such, anytime Gilvoth had sent Irvyn and his Priest down to Mamaea, it was seen closer to a vacation. Araynys was one of the quieter Heartwrights and gave most more social tasks. Be it guiding new recruits to the embrace or just being able to do recon freely in disguise.  
> And...occasionally sow the seeds of deceit into the empire.  
> But what's a vacation without a bit of brandy and chaos?

While it was possible the Tribunal Temple had rumours of it, there as indeed a way under the Ghostfence. Despite it being such a key point, the Heartwight that guarded the mountain side, was much more relaxed in his approach about it. As with most of the Heartwrights, their believe and smugness even when coated with a layer of stern looks always poked through So by the time Dagoth Irvyn and his Ash Priest apprentice had felt real grass through their feet their concerns came out quickly.  
_"Master Dagoth Uthol runs Kogoruhn so loose and freely in comparison."_  
The Ash Ghoul tried to speaks verbally but was straining as it's under neck was growing it's extra fold, preparing for it's soon to be further ascension. Stroking it's claw under it's chin, the Ascended Sleeper had paused for a second before they were to cross the main road.  
_"His work is generally separate since the underpass has finished. The Propylon Network is a great and important undertaking for us, but it's scope is rather unknown. We are aware of Wraithguard's movements, yet the Indexes are vast and forgotten. Acquiring the ebony required to meet the Kagrenac's worth is even further afield from the immediate war."_  
Catching up, the Priest cracked it's neck around shedding skin flakes and followed suit across, swiping away with his cane the weeds that were clinging to the bottom it's robe. It spoke distractedly and more towards the ground.   
_"Kagrenac...the Blighter. He shares the title the Empire places on our Lord. They truly believe our Lord is equating the scope of the Dwemer King. It is worrying, perhaps, as I have heard from whispers in the bases further out the feelings of the Empire."_  
Standing outside the Mamaea, the Black Sanctum. Dagoth Irvyn gestured over some Ash Slaves from the inside to clean up the arrow ridden guars outside. It's hunch had straightened up just for a second and it spoke not in the vibrations they had practiced but with the voice of the house.  
_"Do your rounds, scope outside. These corpses indicate that hunters have passed. Clear your heart and your mind. My sibling, you see with our eyes, you hear with our ears. We are one together. Understand that this is not the same for the cretins of the Empire."_  
The Ash Ghoul took a bow and left with a signal. Pulling up their hood and curling up it's proboscis to fit in the disguise bird-like helmet, skin itched as it ground against the "beak". For all the fresher air, bright light and grass under it's feet the Ash Ghoul sometimes missed the freedom and comfort of being bare around the mountain.  
To it's surprise, a good deal of distance from the base, it hadn't expected to meet however someone else who apparently yearned for the breath of nature across their skin, but it this one had more colour to it's skin. Pot elmet on it's head but pants popped open and armour chucked to the side.  
_"Howwwddtttt stranger! Those---basttards thinking...they could drink me...hic!"_  
Placing it's cane down the side of the man, and taking a knee, the Ash Ghoul Priest attempted to speak with it's own voice, in a mortal voice, but this was not the same and all it did was seemingly make the Nord laugh itself into a ball with a gruff, broken voice.  
_"Yer darkie elves gotta accent wilder than the winter hold lasses! Aye aye aye! Yah aint got a maize or sumthin' on yer?"_  
Looking at the Imperial and it's frustration at not being able to speak to it. Claws did take a curious impatient stroke down it's cane but, peaking around and listening for whispers around them came to a different conclusion. Patting down it's thicker shroud, took a small red bottle from it's robe. Thicker at it's base with a long elegant neck the Ash Ghoul relished in the memory of it's own mortal eyes to be able to fully see light piercing through the glass. The smell after the cork was popped was heavenly to both of them.   
_"Thisssa smells...like a finer MEAD? THicKer?!"_  
The popped cork and smell aroused the Imperial as it's hands reached like a dying bandit in Sentinel. As the hand withdraw, the Ash Ghoul watched as the poor Nord struggled and cried. Attempting to silence the thought or worry that Dagoth Araynys would not fully hear the intrusion of rules. The Ash Ghoul rooted around in the dreams and thoughts of the Nord and pulled from it, just for a second the voice of it's Imperial commander.  
_"I am from Cyrodiil, you Nord barbarians do not deserve to touch such Brandy"_  
As the voice swapped his mind the Nord flung it's arm about to reconcile what it's eyes and mind was seeing and hearing. Cracking it's knuckles on it's abandoned breastplate in a slopped swing, he cursed out the empire. Watching him writhe about in anger for a good minute, the Ash Ghoul Priest prepped further. Holding his mouth open, the Ash Ghoul poured a considerable amount in before slamming the mouth for itself so a drop was not wasted. Finding solace in the sweet ancient brandy of the branding hitting his lips, he gained enough energy to vaguely strand up, leaning and scraping against the mushrooms that reached three times his height.  
_"Ayeyah bastaaaaaaaaaaaardssss. Dontcha think I knew whatddya do to Skyrim like yea done ere"_  
Ash Ghoul Priest however was rather lost now they had the drunkard by a nose. His siblings would perhaps wish a quick elimination with anyone baring the Imperial emblem, yet Dagoth Irvyn's voice echoed within it's fused ears and the facial protrusion curled with a menacing tightness.   
_"You Nords think you are giants but you ran out of Seyda Neen after one drink like a scamp! What kind of so called Nordic strength is that? Curl in your furs on a boat back to Skyrim!"_  
Being able to pull from the Sixth House, the shared secrets and it's own memories, this was the strength of the Sixth House. Clicking in to place how the lord and Sleepers pulled the minds to the mountain, it was exhilarating to even have a fraction of that influence. The smugness coursed through it's veins as it dodged back, teaching the slogged mistaken punches. Using it's long hooked crook to heard and drag the Nord closer to the port, and still in eyesight, but the work hard to be done as quick as possible.   
Clocking and curling the Drunkard forward, the Imperial Guards on the edge of town heard the shouts and growls of the Nord but did not leave their post outside of a small scanned look. Smacking the Nord forward with the cane, The Ash Ghoul retreated back just a few steps out of eyesight and spoke, trying to recall from the Sixth House's dream what a Imperial Guard sounds like. It'd had been so long since they had interacted as a Mortal that requesting this information was a frustrating time waste.  
_"You! Nord! Why are you here? We don't want your likes here? You are worse than Orcs and drink weaker than the wood elves. A spriggan could drink you better!"_  
_"AYE ANOTHER ONE? GHETTTTT OUTTAAA MMMYYY HEAAAD!"_  
Beyond all measures the Ahs Ghoul could be expected the Ash Ghoul used it's much further sight to watch the drunkard, shirtless and coated in hairs and sweat charge and tackle the steel guard. Pummelling him with fists into the steel helmet the sounds crunched harder than a Ash Zombie getting churned by Dwemer gears. The Ash Ghoul dropped it's cane on the grass just watching the chaos this House Dagoth Brandy fuelled monster rip and tear at armour and banners. Withdrawing away from the roads and towns, the Ash Ghoul Priest began it's hasty returned. Catching the squad of guards running down the road where the base lie, a panicked urge began to strike the Ash Ghoul Priest.

In Mamaea, within the Shrine of Shattered Dreams, Dagoth Araynys had called for the Ash Ghoul Priest. Called down into where the giant Ash Statue dominated the back wall, the Ash Ghoul walked and tried to cease any thoughts and feelings. Trying to call and focus only on the pain of their still perfecting body, trying to not hear the very heartbeat of the mountain could be felt through the shrine. Bells chimed in the background and echoed the songs of the Sixth House. A further force pressured across the proboscis face of the Ash Priest to the point that it felt it was going to collaspe. Even when hunched it felt as though Dagoth Araynys was the size of the Akulakhan itself staring down at the low-level priest.   
_"Come, embrace me. By right of daring and enterprise..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The Ash Ghoul does not know Imperial=/=Nord fully at this point.  
> Ulfric Stormcloak was a puppet of the Thalmor, pass it on.


	5. The Day I Had Eyes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Sixth House expanding, a outreach base was to be set up with Solstheim.  
> Of low importance and of little use for recruits, it merely was to exist as a interception for forces that may come from Skyrim, as such only a very small team was to be sent up there, buried in the luggage of ship. The trip was long, and frustratingly slow with the weather for the sailors above. Underneath however the Ash Ghoul Priest and it's Slave slept rested their transforming bodies and share what little they had in their minds back.  
> After all, only one of them was going to be able to record their story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I just wanted to play with things. This goes to far off canon.

Since the embrace, the pain on the Ash Ghoul's body had been vast and constant. Their apatite was insatiable to the point that it nearly cleared out their travelling pack as it's protruding face began to gain inches. With it's decorated Ash Slave by it's side the soon to be head of base was fiester than ever. The Ash Slave whose's light had replaced with a nice keen bud of a proboscis, just about to break the surface swung on it's hammock, gently being rocked by the hooked cane pulling on the ropes. The slowly ascending Ash Ghoul Priest was not so easily able to sleep through the pain as it's subordinate. Then again, only one look at the wrapped, burned sub of a foot vaguely replaced with a boot was all that could be said for the Slave's pain tolerance.  
 _"Sister, if my transformation takes my memories or my life, I wish you to know that I am glad the Sixth House has given me to you."_  
The gentle humming on the slightly snoozing off Ash Slave turned it's head, still crowned with flowers, but much more fresh, non-ash-laden ones. Blue bloom of Coda flowers gave light at the side of their hammock, alongside where an Ash Statue watched over them. The small developing nozzle gave a wiggle as it replied in almost restored speak now.  
 _"We have created a new history for ourselves, my Master. I do not regret the pain I have suffered, for it is frail in comparison to beforehand"_  
The Ash Ghoul Priest ceased pulling the ropes and instead, placing the hooked cane between their legs leaned over it at it's apprentice. They talked through their mind rather openly but this was the first time there was any sort of coherent speech about the person outside of figuring out their original gender. A curious finger slipped through the dream into the Ash Slave's mind but had pulled out, somewhat out of courtesy.  
 _"The pain...The day I plunged my hands into my eyes...It is no wonder why the False Gods are driven to such insanity. I could not bear the repeat this without the Lord's warmth."_  
The Ash Slave flicked through the cracked left over skin and adjusted itself around, stroking the side of the miniature Ash Statue that watched over both of them. IF either of them had eyes, you'd see them staring intently through it. The Ash Ghoul Priest could feel the thoughts of the Master, a vague dream of seeing light reflected through glass.  
 _"Master, do wish to remember what my ruby eyes once saw? I remember...glass...I can feel our dream close"_  
The Ash Ghoul Priest decided to push, just slightly. Leaning back farther on the wooden planks, attempted to relax, listening to the slight hums they could still feel from the Ash Statue. The Sixth House Amulet felt warm on it's chest, almost burning through at times.

* * *

  
They could see...a Telvanni tower of sorts. Light rays, dyed multiple colours lit up the middle floors and brought out the shades of the organic walls. It was met through with arguing, broken arguing shifting between languages.  
 _"Integration with the Mage's Guild will be essential. Swearing by Vehk's name will not save you or your family from the Necromancer's Moon! You come here to Vvardenfell from the main land just to speak nonsense?!"_  
 _"You lick the boot so far you have been stripped bare! We have more Dwemer artefacts to study and use in Vvardenfell alone than the entirety of the Empire together, we outlive and outrank mere children flicking flames about! You and that blasted Aryon..."_  
The eyes turned around and in the light, moved over at someone much taller. White hair, clouded in armour that took in every colour from the window. A not-so gentle female that took the hand and walked closer to the light, rolling the door shut behind.  
Books stacked across the entire room with only one singular doll vaguely in the shape of Azura crowned upon them. Well loved and slightly singed with it's shiny skirt greeted them with a buttoned smile. A repurposed Dwemer pipe and small round sphere laid on the side. Goalposts set up of stack of books either side. Only these two things broke the library nature of the room. Picking up the doll and handing it down to the view,, drenching it in the light rays, the leading Lady gave out a huff. Squatting down with clacks of the armour, her arms engulfed the view.  
 _"Beyte, is a much better with children than me. Forgive me, as a daughter myself, you should not hear such language. Listen to me...make your own choice. What magic school, what skills, your house. Find your family. For if one man can divide into sixth paths, you have more than six to pick between.Everyone believes they are right..."_  
Absorbed in her soft Red eyes, the Ash Statue looked back at both of the Ash creatures. Shaking it's proboscis and and adjusting itself, the Ash Slave was curling up into a ball and from it's face, prongs of it's lower chin was beginning to produce. Claws had gained a further inch too.  
 _"Do not strain yourself my Sister. Please come to me, dream with me instead of your pain. We are far away from the Heart."_  
Standing up and over the Ash Slave, placed it's cane on the floor and straightened out the creatures legs. Keeping it's arms straight and peeling off some flecks on it's growing claws. A whip around the face to sooth. Humming to it's mind a small song not of origin from the mountain. Embracing it's apprentice with open and soft arms.

* * *

  
The sun was fresh and beating down, vaguely in the bottom corner of the person's eye sight, Silt Striders penetrated through the rising sands.  
 _"Enjoying the view, huh? I am surprised they called you back from the high life."_  
A jab in the shoulder caused the controller to look to the right. There dress in light chitin armour leaned a younger Dunmer with swept hair. Leaning over his half helm lauded over the viewer.  
" _The fossils are always heartwarming sight in comparison. One bad night and they you out quicker than a Argonian in Vivec. Rules are stricter with the Temple than both my time in the towers and with the ships. "_  
Withdrawing a book that was propping up the viewer's head, long robed arms stretched out, fur cuffs of grey fur caught the light with a shimmer. The young guard who appeared to have a small shalk-shell flag even weaved onto his shirt gave a grin with puffed torso.  
 _"But hey! At least anyone can climb up here! You don't have to be those hippity hoppity you are my property folks flying up their holes anyway. When I make a future where House Redoran unites all Mer, I'll put a ladder in each and everyone one of those towers. I'll even put a cushion on top of the Clockwork City."_  
He spoke with a bated, excited breath to the point his chest was almost bulging. The view shook left and right with a curse word. A bare hand sheltered away the sunlight as they looked around.  
 _"When guys coloured in your third eye like children on mud, your brains became as empty as a mudcrab. Neither Sommerset nor the Septims will care for your flag"_  
A chuckle came out alongside a cough from the viewer. Standing up and tucking his's helmet underneath his arm, the young Redoran guard-in-training bore a frown A face turned sour and beats of an awkward silence.  
 _"Don't throw false garbage of the House that saved your nameless ass! Be it Tribunal or Azura, Redoran has survived too many wars and Vivec sings songs of our house above all. "_  
Swinging a dagger into frame, the green glass refracted the light over the view blocking out the face of the Redoran boy. Rotating it around a couple times the view placed the knife horizontally across the face of the concerned looking friend. Just for a second there was a shot of light that clipped their eye. A hand came up and itched the other eye, but the view did not change,  
 _"Something about this all stinks! Doesn't this all just not sit right with you? Redoran is a puppet dances across Vivec's script. Hlaalu is a puppet to the gold. The Telvaani are puppets to themselves, a endless Cliff Racer biting it's tail._  
Their voice trailed off and stared into the book that it had brought. The Redoran boy crouched down and looked at person, taking the book from it's hand.  
 _"Sorry, forgive my anger, but I am Redoran through and through. Besides, Lord Sotha Sil was a refugee of a dead house, yet now leads the city you call home..."-_ Breaking off the young man looked at the book and attempted to read the title but got stuck on the first word, yet picking back up it appeared his voice had grown several ages. " _The history you study is written by Kings who won the wars only. Do not forget those on the ground, for if you underestimate the pawns, you will lose every war."_  
The view changed as the view squinted down. Moving the dagger over to point towards the mountain that dominated the skyline of, spun it in the hand. Gesturing a stabbing motion down the centre of the mountain the green light cut across the Redoran's face.   
_"Then you should be warned, though, that a pawn is always sacrificed to protect the king."_  
The head rolled back and looked towards the sun and the bright slight burned yellow to orange to red.  
The sounds of harsh waters snapped the two back into the dark hull of the ship. The Ash Slave however barely moved in acknowledgement but clung with his caw into the robe of the Ash Ghoul. Loud stomps hit above upstairs with constant shouts.  
The Ash Slave asked through the dream what was happening as the boards were beginning to creek heavily. Underneath boxes were shifting violently to the point that the Ash Ghoul's clawed feet was struggling to hold onto the floorboards.  
Placing the coda flowers on the chest of the Ash Slave, placed it's arms around them. It tried to fight back but it was clear their ascension was in full swing and pealing away their Dunmer bones as they spoke.   
_"My sister, I am going to recall you to Maemea. Give the flowers to Brother Dagoth Irvyn for his studies. House Dagoth cannot die and please listen for me in the echoes."_  
Shoving the scroll into the hand of the of the Ash Slave, the Ghoul shouting the last parts of the incarnation as the magic began to eat away at the body more than hands. Cursing themselves for not being as strongly proficient in alteration as some of their peers the Ash Priest took it's cane in hand.   
As the wooden planks began to crack and heavy the Ash Ghoul Priest settled with it's fate. Taking the Ash Statue in one hand and crooked cane in the other, they stood ready at the water and ice chunks cracking through the ship. Humming away, they closed their eyes as the water licked the bottom of their robe. Listening to the thrum of the mountain's beats and held close to them small fragments of it's memory.  
 _"To you, dear ocean Challenger, goes the first blow. As courtesy as a Priest of House Dagoth."_  
\--


	6. [Bonus] The Day I Thawed Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyrim's temperatures had meant that preservation of older era artefacts had become somewhat of a sub-culture amongst it's residents. One of those so-called archivists and money makers was a young Altmer who torched a part of the woods to create it's little grotto. With ash underneath it's feet, the eager fan awaits it biggest treasures yet. Something that not even the Dawnstar Museum could rival!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a half-in joke from talking about the Dawnstar Museum so is be taken with a giant pinch of salts.  
> Do I need to tag lesbians for this?  
> Fun fact: I always find it amusing that the Great House Dagoth Mod at the end has you drop Bau Dau onto Vivec and that is what ends up happening in canon...just a couple eras out.

Unloading the block of ice with a thud on the ground, the Nord team that had escorted it through snow and forests stretched out their arms in exhaustion. Two of them taking seat on burned out logs, the third one asked   
_"Yer Thalmor have a taste for fine statues, ay? This one musta' cost you the entirety of Solitude"_  
The black and red robed Altbert scratched the back of it's head and tossed it a giant pouch.  
 _"Dwemer artifacts are worth Septims than their weight in materials to Winterhold since the Red Year. Neither the Thalmor or Nords appear to have the time to fetch the Guild's study materials while they bicker either."_  
The hefty Nord shifted through the back and rattled it a couple times to check through. The golden ring with a red tip was held up to the light before a satisfactory nod.  
 _"Yer thalmor least pay us the right amount. Yer made mah family more than happy."_  
The Altmer bid the Nord goodbye and stared at the ice that gean to show so some drips. Encased in the ice inside was a robed figure, only vaguely to made out. The yellow hand touched the middle of the ice where a bright red managed to seem through the ice. Placing an ear on the ice, waiting for the trails and hooves of horses and men to leave listened to try hear anything.

* * *

  
Awakening, wrapping in sheets the magical eyes had felt up the walls and looked through their texture. Wood, evergreen wood. Curled up and around the bare bones room stacked with books and the odd trinklets, everything engraved with unreadable letters. Managing to stand up the entire body creaked achingly as the caucus skin cracked apart and flaked off. It's clawed hands struck and racked at it's face for half a minute to find it's proboscis still there in tack and any alterations now lost.   
Stumbling through the cracks, the Ash Ghoul met a figure in a broken beak-like mask with robes of red and black. The tapestries on the wall, burnt, broken and crinkled. Vague restorations with misplaced curves drove the Ash Ghoul into a almost frenzy in confusion. Picking up the masked humanoid down the hall it called upon Dagoth's Bloom to pull apart...the magic never came though. Magicka roared in it's veins, it could still feel but when calling upon Dagoth's Bloom it fizzled into aught.  
 _"I'm with you! I'm one of you! Hey! Listen! Can you even hear me?"_  
The humanoid voice was broken, jumbled and only the vaguest sounding syllables was recognised by the Ash Ghoul. Familiar but so far distant and broken that it had become unrecognisable. Examining with further magic eyes around the room, trying to pull together what this false-house was it spied an ash statue. Clutching the small miniature Ash Statue it sang at it with all the whispers of the Sixth House it knew, but there was no thum, no echo. Not even the tiniest feel of the blood of the Mountain.  
The humanoid with it's fake mask that half resembled what the Ash Ghoul looked line placed a sheet of paper on it. Written with broken handwriting of old Dunmeri:  
 _"4E 175 Skyrim. Hello."_  
The Ash Ghoul collapsed on the floor over the sign, the ash statue rolled a couple inches away propped up on one if it's spikes. The Altmer dashed to the aid of it's glass treasure and before attempting to pick the Ash Ghoul up. Placing it back in the bed, it gave a gentle whisper to it before placing the Ash Statue at the side.  
When it awake again, the Altmer appeared quickly with it's stirring, holding something in it's hand. Carefully and gentle reaching over, gave an amulet to the Ash ghoul, The red Ash Glass was soft on it's chest .  
 _"Do you have a name, Daughter of Blighter?"_  
With the amulet, the magical eyes were slightly more focused and could see that nestled between the masked figure's bosom was inseed another Sith House Amulet.  
 _"Release me! Return me to Maemea."_  
The lady shook her head back at the Ash Ghoul.  
 _"Vivec is no more. You cannot return."_  
The Ash Ghoul sat up and it's protrusion straightened out in a victory stretch,.  
 _"Bau Dau...Vivec...we were victorious? We won..."_  
The Lady sat next to the Ash Ghoul and gave a grim look.  
 _"I am a merciful soul as I have brought you back. I will return your ashes to the mountain if you wish. Know this before I tell you the truth. The Tribunal fell at the start of this Era, your name has no exited for 2 eras..."_  
As the Altmer spoke of the Red Year, the Ash Ghoul listened and calmed down. This was no less painful than any of the corpus disfigurements and paint hey had suffered before. With the voices of the Sixth House silenced and their thoughts there own, they even felt weightless in comparison.  
It has asked once in the story to be taken thrown in Coldharbour for that is the only place such a failed mistake could happen but as the tale of the third era went on, there was a cvhange in heart. While the Thalmor had pushed the Empire away the dreams and visions that were using across the mountain began to weave a narrative. Satisfied with this picture they agreed to stay alive for until everything could be recorded.  
 _"Lord Dagoth Ur...Gilvoth...we working to collapse Bau Dau...Our Lord knew... To see the dream but not the details. This is a bitter, bitter end, but the last I can do is make sure that the false God's and Empire's records are straightened with the truth.."_

* * *

  
By the time Ash Ghoul had gained full movement again and it has spent the majority of it's time writing alongside the Altmer, writing down as much information as it could remember or garner. Everything from the vaguest memories of their life before to the times they shared with Irwyn. Yet as the books began to pile up through the months, the Ash Ghoul began to wander more and more around in the burnt out part of the forest where the so called museum lived. They would play the heavy bells made of the wrong material outside, humming songs of years past. Even the odd Dark Elf refugree that passeed through no longer reconised the sounds of the bells. A Hlaalu merchant at point asked if it was a older song of Azura itself. The Altmer had even posed perhaps to ask Azura for her mercy, but unused to the reclamation traditions was lost on anything further to do with the so-called Good Daedra.   
_"I wonder what became of my Sister. My last task I gave was to deliver Coda flowers to my old Master."_  
Sitting on a thrown out create at the side of their cottage, the Ash Ghoul costume wearing Altmer had an eye pronged, curiously, as it was polishing the bright blue crystal-like blade of some Dwarven dagger they had traded for.   
_"A Coda flower, ay? My common name is after that marsh flower. Got me more than enough ridicule as a child."_  
The smallest bell was strung with the phase and the hammer placed down.   
The Ash Ghoul's nozzle curled inwards before relaxing. taking the hand of Coda the Altmer. Asked further about the name in a curious hopeful tone. Reponsing with surprised glee at this act of warmth the creature had not shown, the Alter waved it's gloved hand in dismissal.  
 _"Well you probably dislike me for being an Alter right? Well...if you go back a couple steps I had a mother who was a grand Dunmer of the Telvanni. Lived into the third era on the Morrowind side of Solstheim. Her tower was supposedly coated in Coda flowers, enough that it looked like a ligthhouse over the frozen sea. I was the first lady since her to be born, so they gave me her name."_  
Slumped over the Altmer and it's proboscis gave up all life down it's partners back. Cursing out Azura and whoever's dream this was that they had awoken in, They stood up and took the hands of the dressed up Altmer and as the fingers wrapped as tendril there was a earnest sound it's voice as it "looked" down it's nozzle.  
 _"Lord Dagoth Ur spoke through me once to a failed Nevearine. His words he said once then perhaps were his vision of me, because I have lived it!"_  
 ** _Better luck on your next incarnation!_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it to the end, thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> Love you <3


End file.
